


Cookies

by TrekkieSlut



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Baking, Bonding, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Making Out, Sappy, Shore Leave, Vulcan Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 01:54:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5356538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrekkieSlut/pseuds/TrekkieSlut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a quiet day on their shared shore leave and Spock, Jim, and Leonard decide to make old-fashioned peanut butter chocolate chip cookies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cookies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gardenofmaris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardenofmaris/gifts).



> I love baking, and I especially love creating sweet treats :3 I happened to mention this to gardenofmaris, who then requested this sweet McSpirk thingie! Thank you hon!!
> 
> By the way, the recipe I took inspiration from can be found [here!](https://www.verybestbaking.com/recipes/30357/old-fashioned-peanut-butter-chocolate-chip-cookies/)

“We could merely replicate these, Jim.”

Jim pouted down at his two boyfriends, who were sitting inert on the squashy couch. Spock scanned the recipe on the PADD, reading it to himself and raising an eyebrow. “Chocolate…?”

“You want to make peanut butter cookies by hand? Do we even have any ingredients? Is there even a shop in the middle of your ‘shore leave paradise’, Jim?” Bones grunted from behind a medical journal, of which he’d read the same run-on sentence about ten times since Jim had burst into the room.

“Of course there is, I purchased them all this morning. So…now neither of you have any excuse!” Jim practically chirped, standing akimbo before them. “It’s about the process of doing it, we’ll enjoy it! Please?”

Bones grunted again. Spock began to stand up. “Of course I will assist you in this recreational activity, Jim, if it will bring you happiness.”

Jim grinned and took Spock’s hand to pull him up from the couch, squeezing his fingers in a way Jim was very aware had particular connotations. Bones saw Spock blush and rolled his eyes, resting his PADD on his forehead.

“Bones, please. At least join us in the kitchen.”

“I know that you are not making any progress with your reading, Leonard.”

With that, Bones smacked the couch with his palms and stood up. “Fine, I need to make sure that you don’t burn down the cottage anyway, Jim.” He disappeared around the corner, bumping his shoulder on the door frame on the way through. “Ow. And I know _you_ just want to get yourself chocolate-high, Spock!”

Jim and Spock followed him, only to find him pulling ingredients out of a shopping bag on the countertop, looking at them curiously. “I do not become ‘high’ from consuming cocoa products,” Spock corrected.

“Bones, how about you read the recipe?” Jim suggested, holding out the PADD. “Spock and I’ll mix the ingredients…I know you could burn cornflakes and milk.”

Leonard gave him a hard stare and took the offered PADD. “Geez, do these look bad for ya. Okay then, first things first…” He traced the lines of text with his fingertip. “…Turn the oven on to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. I got it!”

Jim warily watched him bounce towards the kitchenette’s small oven. “We should keep an eye on him,” he whispered. Spock nodded.

Jim gave the flour to Spock for measuring out into a mixing bowl, whilst he gathered together the butter, white and brown sugars and a jar of peanut butter.

“Spock, it says here you need one and a half cups of flour. Mixed with a teaspoon of baking soda. Whatever that’s for.”

“Honestly Bones, did you not have a mother who taught you to bake?” Jim prodded, unwrapping two sticks of butter and dropping them into large metal bowl.

“Bicarbonate of soda acts as a raising agent when subjected to temperatures greater than 176 degrees Fahrenheit, releasing carbon dioxi-”

“That’s great, darlin’.” Bones couldn’t help but smirk at Spock - he only meant well. Spock was now searching the drawers, looking a little perplexed. “What’s wrong?”

“I cannot seem to locate a half-cup measurement,” Spock replied, holding a measuring cup in his hand.

“Just fill the one you’ve got one and a half times, Spock,” Jim suggested. Spock cast an affronted look at Jim and noticed that he was now happily mashing up cubes of butter with a spoon.

“Obviously that’s not acceptable, Jim. We both know this.”

“Leonard is correct. I do not deal in estimates.” Spock placed a measuring jug on the counter, looking displeased. “However, I may be forced to on this occasion.”

“What’s wrong, does the jug not measure the millilitres to two decimal places?” Leonard scoffed.

Spock pierced him with a stare. “Of course not. However, upon conversion and rounding, I have calculated that I need to fill the jug to the 355 millilitre mark.” He still did not look entirely satisfied.

Leonard dropped his head into his hands. “Good grief, man.” He dug around in another drawer and tossed an object over to Spock. “Here’s a teaspoon.”

“Well, if he’s not gonna use the cup I will,” Jim piped up. He had thoroughly decimated the butter in the bottom of his mixing bowl. Bones stared at it in disbelief. “What? Don’t look like that Bones, you know there’s method to my madness.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Right then, how much peanut butter do I use?”

“A half cup.”

Jim dolloped peanut butter into the cup until he guessed that it was half full, then scraped it out into the bowl along with his buttery mess. Spock paused his dedicated measuring of flour, looking distinctly uncomfortable with Jim’s slapdash methods.

“And how much white sugar?”

“A half cup.”

Jim did the same with the white sugar, though half of it remained stuck in the cup with the peanut butter residue. He scooped it out with his finger and wiped it off into the bowl.

“I hope to god you washed your hands, Jim.”

“Sure I did. And the brown sugar? A half cup?”

“A half cup.”

Jim tore the packet open and poured it into the cup, overfilling it in his enthusiasm. “Whoops!” He tipped it into the bowl regardless.

“Jim, if you add too much brown sugar, the cookies will end up chewy,” Spock advised, gently stirring the white powder in his bowl. He wouldn’t want any spillage on his dark civvies.

“But still delicious, right?”

“Unquestionably, Jim. But-”

“Then it’s okay! It’s just fun - relax, Spock,” Jim said, grinning his sloppy grin. He brushed his bangs out of his face, smearing a sticky, sugary trail across his forehead. “Now what, Bones?”

“Hate to say it, Jim, but you’ve got to beat it until it’s creamy.”

Jim clapped his hands together, grinning larger than ever, and took up a spoon. “You see? Fun!”

Spock and Bones watched him, contemplating whether or not they should be alarmed, as Jim commenced pulverising the contents of the bowl into a mixture.

“Spock, it says here we need an egg. Will you do the honours?” Leonard drawled, keen to distract himself from Jim’s onslaught, watching as Spock plucked one egg from the carton on the counter. Bones watched him gently crack the shell with the edge of a fork and neatly split it so that the contents poured out into a bowl, completely avoiding messing his hands with any residue.

“You’re very practised at that.” Leonard watched intently as Spock gracefully pinched the fork in his fingers and beat the egg with a deft swivelling of his wrist.

“I accompanied my mother frequently in her baking exploits when I was a child. She is a skilled baker, though she did it only for the purpose of enjoyment.”

“I knew part of you was a momma’s boy, Spock,” Bones teased, leaning back on the worktop and crossing his feet. Spock looked perplexed.

“Done!” Jim sang out, turning to them. He held the bowl in his hands and was flecked with droplets of mixture.

“Great,” Bones said, flashing Jim a concerned look. “Now you add the egg and mix it in,” he instructed. Spock carefully poured in the egg and Jim, in stark contrast, returned to mixing with enthusiasm. Gradually the flour was added by Spock, clouds of it billowing up on them thanks to Jim’s flailing, until the cookie dough thickened.

“We’re almost there,” Jim exclaimed, grabbing the bag of chocolate chips. “We just need-”

“One and three-quarter cups of chocolate chips,” Spock read over Leonard’s shoulder. “This may prove problematic to measu-”

“Whoops,” Jim muttered as he tipped the entire bag into the bowl. Spock’s eyes widened. “Oh come on, who can be bothered with measuring that out?” Jim attempted to defend himself.

“For the love of-!” Bones spluttered, watching Jim return to his unstoppable mixing. It seemed as though the contents of the bowl was now one part dough to one part chocolate. “Jim! Won’t you please think of the Vulcan?!”

“Calm down, Bones, you know he’ll be fine.”

“It’s not him I’m concerned about!”

“Leonard…” Spock began, “I assure you that I can moderate my intake.”

Bones squinted at him. “We’ll see about that.”

Jim lay baking paper out onto trays, handing out spoons to his boyfriends. Together they deposited dollops of the mixture onto the trays in neat rows, the room quiet save for the humming of the heated oven. Once the bowl was empty, Jim moved across the kitchen to put the trays in to bake, and Leonard sighed, reaching over to toss his spoon into the empty bowl. He caught Spock’s hovering fingertips on the way, smearing cookie dough on them. Spock flinched back, examining his messy hand.

“Damn- I’m sorry, Spock!”

“It is alright. Would you kindly retrieve a cloth for me?”

Leonard studied him - his lips were shiny and parted and his face a little flushed. Without any further hesitation Bones lifted Spock’s hand to his lips and sucked the messy finger into his mouth. Spock’s pupils flared out.

“Doctor, you know that this contains raw egg, it is not advised that-!”

Leonard popped the digit out of his mouth and sighed, regarding Spock with hooded, dark blue eyes. “I judge the risk to be minimal,” he replied and resumed his lapping. Spock purred.

Jim moved up flush against Spock’s back and pressed his face into the juncture of the Vulcan’s neck and shoulder, winding his arms about him and kissing the hot skin. Spock shuddered when his hand was released from his other lover’s mouth.

Bones flashed a mischievous grin at his darling Vulcan. “There now. All gone.”

“You’re mean, Bones,” Jim scolded, lifting his face and resting his chin on Spock’s shoulder. He was rocking gently back and forth, Bones noticed, standing on his toes to match Spock’s height. Bones licked his own thumb and rubbed off some of the dried mixture crusted on Jim’s forehead.

“Who says I’m being mean?” Leonard attempted his best impression of Jim’s pout, shrugging. “I’m keen. You’re keen. He’s keen. Who’s to say we can’t mess around?”

“The cookies require a total of eight minutes in the oven,” Spock said. “And they now require a further four minutes and thirty-nine seconds.”

“Well fine. But after?”

“Yes.

“After.”

Following that, the chiming of the oven’s timer could not come soon enough and it was hurriedly switched off, the cookies whipped out to sit and cool. The three of them hurried from the kitchen, and across the small house soft giggles and slapping of buttocks could be heard.

~oO0Oo~

Some time later, the planet’s setting sun found the three of them sprawled nude on the sheets of the bed, a plate of fresh cookies sitting between them. Low light streamed over the bed and cast shadows over Jim’s face as he nibbled on a cookie, his head resting on Leonard’s chest. Spock reclined on his side like a cat, his eyes closed, slowly chewing one of the baked treats.

“So…what do you think?” Jim spoke up, with a mouthful of biscuit.

“I think that you need to be careful not to spill crumbs or chocolate onto the bedsheets, Jim,” Spock said, a hint of playful sass in his tone. He looked pointedly at Jim.

Jim scowled, licking crumbs off his lips. “I meant, what do you think of the finished product? Good?”

“Spock was right, they’ve come out a little chewy,” Leonard mumbled around a mouthful.

“But delicious, right?” Jim looked over, his eyes shining.

“Of course,” Bones reassured, guiding Jim’s face to his by the chin. He brought their mouths together in a chocolate-nutty kiss, their lips smacking. “Just like you.” The pair of them chuckled and Jim rolled over to lay on his tummy between Bones’ legs.

“Like me? Am I a cookie?” Jim asked, rubbing his cheek against his lover’s fuzzy chest.

“Mmmm…” Bones took another bite of his cookie, mulling it over and trailing his hand down Jim’s spine. “Nah, you’re more like the peanut butter. Pretty nutty.”

“Thanks a lot, Bones. I guess that makes Spock the chocolatey part.”

Spock’s eyes slid open again. They looked blown out and glossy - he truly was rather tipsy. “How so?” he muttered.

“It just makes sense I suppose. You’re dark and sweet.” Jim smiled gently at him, reaching out to sweep his bangs back.

“Which makes me the cookie…how?” Bones asked.

Jim snorted against his chest. “You’re lumpy and crumbly.”

Leonard swatted him playfully, his laughter bouncing Jim’s head on his chest. “And I have a whole week left of shore leave to endure this abuse, too.” He looked over at Spock, who stared at them with an owl-like gaze, appearing completely spaced out. “Y’alright, Spock? Had too much chocolate there, darlin’?”

Spock nodded slowly, scooting up close to Leonard and curling up around him. Leonard cuddled him close, sighing. “You always have been a cuddly drunk.” He wiped a crumb of chocolate from Spock’s lip with his thumb and let his head fall back, just accepting the fact that he was covered in boyfriends for now.

And he never really could complain about that.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I know that you can't be that accurate with a measuring jug - believe me, I've tried.
> 
> And now I really really want to bake cookies!
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
